


the selfish kind

by gguksae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Ch 105, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 07:43:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14807156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gguksae/pseuds/gguksae
Summary: He’s mostly talking to himself at this point, but his words cut. And she bleeds. EM + Post Ch 105. Requested by @jungianca6 on Tumblr.





	the selfish kind

**Author's Note:**

> Angst, angst, angst. As long as I've been writing, I'm still relatively new to this genre! Ugh. I just made myself sad. I'm gonna drown myself in fluff after this.

“Hey.”

She makes her presence known after gazing at him from the doorway, where she stands for some time, donned in dark clothing for the evening sun. She hasn't had the chance to speak with him since their return to Paradis, let alone attempt to comfort him after what has happened, but she figures that now, with everyone going about their various duties, is a time good as any.

Eren straightens from his slump, peering through his fingertips. “Hey.”

“Did you eat dinner yet?”

He shakes his head, doesn’t miss a beat when he answers. “I’m not hungry.”

Mikasa frowns, out of habit. “Oh.”

He stares, though. Studies her, long enough to where heat begins to rise in her cheeks as his gaze lowers. Lingers on the muffler tucked neatly around her neck, had been notably absent previously. It makes him cautious, cuts straight to the point. “What are you _really_ doing here, Mikasa?”

“I just wanted to see you.” Crestfallen. “If that's okay.”

“I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me. After all that's happened.” Eren looks away. “After what I've done.” He doesn’t expect her to feel bad for him, and if he was being _brutally_ honest, he’s wondering why she’s not distancing herself from him. Why would someone as (beautiful) strong as Mikasa put herself around the likes of him? Why does she still bother? Why does she continue to waste her time? It befuddles him, frustrates him, almost. Armin saw the signs. Armin did what everyone else should have done. Maybe it would hurt less if they stopped to care.

“Mistakes were made,” she agrees.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Sympathizing.”

“I'm not. I'm just agreeing with you. What you did is wrong and we suffered from the choice you decided to make, yet again.”

His gaze hardens. “Was Sasha’s life worth it, though?”

He’s mostly talking to himself at this point, but his words cut. And she bleeds.

Her chest tightens, heart twists. Rose colored lips come together as tresses fall over storm colored hues, cascading them as they fall to the floor. Guarding her from exposure. “Comrades fall every day.”

“But she wasn't _just_ a comrade.” Eren's voice wavers, giving way of oncoming emotion. “She wasn’t some idiot who joined, what, not even _three_ months ago?” A jabbing thumb points to nothing, aimed behind a rising shoulder. “She was our _friend_. And I _killed_ her. I _killed_ her, I...”

He’ll never get to see Sasha’s smiling face again. He’ll never be able to listen to her hopeful words, laughing so hard she snorts, never be able to reflect on old memories in order to make new ones. He’ll never be able to see her at breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, or before he goes to bed. There will always be that empty seat at the table. That beat of silence shared between a group of seven, now down to six, will pass, and her southern twang will no longer ring across the table.

_She’s not gone. She’s not gone. She’s not gone._

“No, you didn't,” voice low, Mikasa's hand trembles around the doorknob as she closes it behind her. “She... _refused_ to be left behind. _All_ of us, refused…”

Snorts. “You only came because you were ordered, too.”

“That’s not-”

“Mikasa,” her name falls between gritted teeth as frustration builds from his feet up, a fire that shoots him out of his seat and starting forward. It only takes him two long strides to reach her, two seconds for calloused digits to curve around ivory. _“Stop. trying_. to make me _feel_ better. I don’t need your comfort. I don’t need your empathy. And I _don’t_ need you standing here making me _feel_ like - like - like I need _saving._ Because I _don’t.”_ The grip tightens, and her knees _buckle_. _“I’m not a charity case._ It’s too late for me. Whatever hope you have left for me, you need to _drop_ it. Right now.”

“I can’t.” She sounds pathetic to her own ears, the way her voice rises in octave as if she’s whining, the way she’s clinging to the foreign uniform that he still dons. He’s almost a complete stranger to her now, standing before her. Staring at her as if she is foreign to him, too.  But she persists. She always persists. “I’m not gonna give up on you, Eren. You _know_ that.”

“Quit while you’re ahead.”

“Not happening?”

“Why not?”

“Because if I stop fighting, I lose you, forever.”

This makes Eren still.

Makes his breath falter.

Makes his heart stutter.

The overcoming dread has brought them both to their knees in front of each other, her face in his hands, his shoulders in her grasp. They haven’t even addressed the damn _elephant_ in the room, but there was literally no point? Eren is dying. Day by day. Hour by hour. Minute by minute. And every shift is a risk that he takes, and abuses, _knowing_ the consequences and possible outcomes of each turn. Only bringing him closer to the sweet embrace of death -

“I can’t,” Mikasa’s shoulders sag, but she is rendered helpless under his gaze. She cannot hide from him anymore, cannot fight the hot tears streaming down her cheeks. _“I can’t lose you_.”

He feels like the biggest piece of shit for doing it, but -

He smiles. Brushes her bangs out of her face while simultaneously catching a tear with his thumb. He leans until his forehead brushes against hers, never breaking eye contact with the only one who’s stood by him. Regardless of what he’s done, regardless of the lives he’s taken. He’s taken advantage of her in every aspect of the word, and she _still_ loves him. She still believes that she can protect him from his own demons, foolishly. He loves her, too. Maybe it’s more than he realizes, maybe it’s a selfish kind of love. He doesn’t want to lose her, either. Mikasa is his goddamn _rock_ : his support, his voice of reason, his strength, his motivation - his _home_.

But he cannot lie to her any longer. If she continues, she’ll end up just like him in the end. Dead. Gone. Just another pile of bones burning in the distance. Alongside Sasha. Erwin. Petra.

The following words leave his lips,

“You don’t have a choice, Mika.”

And she breaks. 


End file.
